


anchors

by memoriam (sacredduet)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5 Times, Hurt/Comfort, It's framed like a 4 + 1 fic but it's barely one to be honest, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, on Shiro's part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacredduet/pseuds/memoriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro’s still adrift, lost at sea, but as he squeezes Keith’s hand, he thinks that he’s on his way to safe harbor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anchors

**Author's Note:**

> i got upset thinking about shiro and keith, keith, and shiro so i wrote this shit. or, this sheith if you will. also shoutout to kero for beta'ing!!

           Shiro’s pressed back to back to Keith, who swiftly dodges an attack from one of the training bots, before striking at one with his bayard. “Shiro, bot coming into your left!” He nods in acknowledgement and quickly circles around it to attack it with his bionic arm, taking down the last of the bots. The robot quickly deactivates, and Shiro wipes sweat off his face with his other hand. Keith puts a hand on Shiro’s shoulder and smirks. “Ready to take on the gladiator?” Shiro laughs and rolls his neck and shoulders, easing out the muscles before he starts fighting again.

        He matches his friend’s smirk and responds, a bit cockily, “Bring it on, buddy.” Keith adjusts his gloves and assumes a fighting stance behind Shiro again, once he’s activated the simulation for the gladiator. All of the paladins have been rapidly climbing up the difficulty levels on the training bots, but no one can take out the gladiator as fast as Shiro and Keith can. Shiro ducks a kick from a mechanical leg, which leaves an opening for Keith to slash at the bot with his bayard. The hit lands successfully and the gladiator stumbles back. A surge of pride settles in Shiro’s chest at the sight, and he can’t help but feel grateful that Keith was his go-to partner for training back at the Garrison.

        The gladiator strikes at Shiro several times with its metal staff but he manages to block it each time with his hand. He kicks under one of its legs and land a solid punch on it but it jumps back before he gets any more hits in. All of a sudden, it does something that he hasn’t seen it do in past simulations. It jumps up high and swings its staff towards Shiro as gravity brings it down, but he’s not seeing the gladiator anymore. He freezes, because the movement is uncannily similar to one of the monsters that were created for him to fight in the arena. Shiro’s dimly aware that the staff is about to hit him but he can’t will his body to move, not when fear is creeping up his veins and turning him to ice. Keith blocks the attack before it gets to Shiro and promptly dismisses the gladiator. He puts away the bayard and turns to Shiro, concern clear in his eyes. “Shiro, are you okay?”

        He doesn’t know. Shiro exhales shakily and tries to recollect his composure. “I’m… good. Better now,” he replies, words still a little choppy from being so shaken up. “That move it did at the end… It was almost exactly like something I remember fighting on the Galra ship.” Keith nods in understanding and leads him to one of the benches in the training room. The two of them sit down and he hands Shiro a pouch of water. Shiro leans into him as he winds down from both the training and the flashback, letting the touch ground him.

        Keith turns in his seat so he can look Shiro in the eye. He puts his hand on Shiro’s shoulder, and Shiro’s secretly grateful for the continued contact even if he doesn’t let it show. “Takashi, are you with us?” Shiro feels a little lost, and in truth, he’s been feeling that way since he crash landed on Earth. He moves Keith’s hand from his shoulder and interlock his fingers with Keith’s. (He worries distantly that maybe he’s being too open with his affections, but he allows himself to be a little selfish in this moment). Shiro’s still adrift, lost at sea, but as he squeezes Keith’s hand, he thinks that he’s on his way to safe harbor.

        “I’m getting there,” Shiro replies at last, and Keith _understands_ in that way he always has and doesn’t push Shiro for any other answer. Shiro leans back into Keith’s side, and finds ease in Keith’s steady heartbeat. This, at least, is a memory Shiro will enjoy recalling.

 

o.o.o.o

 

        Everything goes to _shit_ once Sendak infiltrates the castle. There’s a lot to be done to clean up the aftermath, and while the castle is more or less back to full power Allura is still shaken up about what happened with the hologram of her father, so the crew collectively decides it’s time for a break. Shiro wants to go join them but he’s still on edge from the whole ordeal. “You’ve been broken and reformed. Just look at your arm,” Sendak’s voice still sneers in his mind. He wasn’t like Sendak at all, the arm was forced upon him, it had to be. It… doesn’t matter that his arm is his only weapon, it doesn’t define him. Shiro wishes that this didn’t feel like he was only trying to convince himself. He looks at his reflection in the glass of the observation deck. He traces the edges of his scar, runs his hand through the white tuft of hair that sits on his forehead, and clenches his fist. The metal of his robotic arm feels like its burning him where it meets his skin. Shiro doesn’t notice that Keith walked in at some point, or that he’s in the room at all until he speaks.

        “Hey,” Keith says casually, but the set of his brows gives away his worry.

        “Hey, buddy. How long have you been here?” Keith walks over to where Shiro was standing by the window and leans against the wall there.

        “Long enough. You with us, Takashi?” There’s that question again. Shiro isn’t unanchored at the moment. He’s angry, afraid, frustrated even, but not lost. Then again, is he even really Takashi anymore? How much did the Galra take from him in that year?

        “Yes, and no. Maybe? I’m tired. I don’t remember,” Shiro’s voice is quiet and broken. Keith moves to stand beside him, and his presence is like a warm fire on a cold, winter night. “Sendak told me I was broken. And reformed by the Galra. He told me that Zarkon won, and I know that it’s not true but it got to me.” And here, Shiro begins to go adrift again. He knows how to get back to shore, but there’s an ocean of shame and fear pulling him away.

        Keith puts a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, a familiar action for both of them. “Zarkon can’t win a fight he hasn’t fought yet. You know this, Shiro. I’ll be here to remind you, when you need me to,” he says, voice unwavering and confident.  It doesn’t bring him back to port but it reminds him how to. Shiro’s grateful for that. He doesn’t need someone to pick up the pieces for him when he falls, he just needs someone to give him a hand when it happens. Keith squeezes his shoulder before dropping his hand to hold Shiro’s.

        Shiro smiles, and it’s just as warm as ever even if it needs more coaxing to come out these days. He’s grateful for this too, for Keith being the one to initiate these little touches. It’s childish maybe, but it gives him hope and distracts him from his worries. He drops his anchor at harbor. “Thanks,” he says, though really, it could’ve gone unsaid. Keith smiles back, and Shiro files this moment away in his heart for safekeeping.

 

o.o.o.o

        The two of them are back in the training room after a while. Keith’s sparring with some of training bots by himself, while Shiro lifts weights. He puts them down momentarily to watch Keith. He moves with such _grace_ while fighting. He seamlessly moves from a punch to a dodge, moves all instinct. His form is a little sloppy. “Elbows out, fists closer to your head, Keith,” Shiro calls out. Keith quickly adjusts his stance, despite his half-hearted grumbling at the advice.  But he’s moving faster now, at a pace that lets him use his bayard more efficiently than his fists alone. It’s almost a little funny how easily this comes to Keith, when he seems to trip over his own feet in normal conversation. Well, that’s not really fair, Shiro thinks. He’s only awkward if he doesn’t know you very well. Shiro reflects back to how the two of them first met.

 

_Shiro bumps into someone on his way out of the flight sims. He looks to be only a year or two younger than him, and he seems awfully nervous. Ah.         Shiro knows what he’s up to._

_“You know; only junior or above cadets are allowed solo access to the flight sims?” Shiro notices the way he balls his fists up and stubbornly looks         away, not in anger but in embarrassment. Well, that’s an impressive frown. He doesn’t respond for a while so he takes pity on the cadet, because it                 hasn’t been that long since he was in the same boat, and decides to just help the other boy out. “Haha, don’t worry about it. Come with me, I have a                 pass.”_

_“W-why would you help me? If it’s against the rules, shouldn’t you be turning me in or something?” he asks, tone slightly standoffish._

_Shiro laughs and the other boy’s frown deepens somehow. Shiro cuts him off before he retorts. “That’s not really my style.” You hold out your hand.         “I’m Takashi Shirogane. You are?”_

_He shakes Shiro’s hand hesitantly. “Keith… Keith Kogane.”_

_Shiro smiles, and something tells him that the two of them could be good friends. “Well, Keith, how about we run through the flight simulations?”         Keith’s frown quickly eases into an excited grin, and he follows after Shiro._

 

        Keith pauses, noticing that Shiro’s stopped training and seems to be just staring off distantly. “With us, Shiro?” he asks, quirking his head to the side.

        Shiro snaps out of his reverie, a little flustered. He ducks his head in embarrassment. “I’m here. I was just thinking about things. Well, the Garrison, actually,” he responds sheepishly. Keith laughs, bright and genuine, and Shiro’s sure if he wasn’t blushing before he was now.

        “You’ve always been a sap,” Keith teases, good-naturedly. A sap, huh? That’s not an unfair assessment, Shiro thinks idly before the two of them go back to training.

 

o.o.o.o

 

        Shiro dreams in color. He dreams of bright, vivid reds, blues, greens, and yellows. He has nightmares of dim, eerie, purples. It’s always bad when the two intermingle. He wakes with a start, skin clammy and throat hoarse likely from screaming. Shiro forces his body to relax, letting go of the tension in his muscles and taking deep breathes to force his heartbeat to calm down. He’s had this dream before. The paladins are about to take on Zarkon, or sometimes Sendak or one of the monsters he remembers from the arena, and Shiro freezes in the middle of battle. Whoever the opponent is gets ready to cut him down and then on of the paladins (usually Keith, and he wasn’t in the mood for examining what that meant) would jump in and take to blow for him. He hates this nightmare more than the others he had. It’s always easier to deal with the ones where he’s back on the ship than this one, where one of his friends die. He sighs and heads over to the common room. He doubts he’ll be getting any sleep soon, and he doesn’t particularly want to be in his room right now.

        Shiro doesn’t expect to see Keith in the common room, not at this time of night. “Keith? What are you still doing up?” he asks, voice still a bit rough from earlier. Keith looks up from where he was polishing his bayard.

        “I could be asking you the same thing. Couldn’t sleep, you?” Keith returns to his task and Shiro moves to sit near him.

        “Me neither. Nightmares,” Shiro says, eyes going distant briefly. “What about you?” Keith puts away the bayard and turns to face Shiro.

        “I wasn’t tired. Do you need to talk about it?” Shiro hesitates at the question. It might help but he wasn’t keen on remembering the nightmare. He shakes his head no, and sighs. “Hey,” Keith murmurs softly, “Are you with us, Takashi?”

        Shiro looks at Keith, eyes heavy with sadness and _fear._ “I am right now. I’m worried about the times when I’m not. I don’t… want to let the team down.” He tentatively circles a hand around Keith’s wrist, just to make sure this was real and not part of the dream.

        “We’ll cover for you, when you aren’t. You’re our leader but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. That’s what being a team means, right?” Keith says with all the confidence Shiro lacks right now.

        “That’s what I’m worried about. I’m worried that one of you will get hurt, or worse, because I’ll falter.”

        “You’ll pick yourself back up. You always do, and if you need help getting up, we’ll be there to give you a hand,” he says resolutely, and if Shiro didn’t know him better he’d almost think Keith was angry that Shiro doubted himself like that. There’s an _‘I’ll be there’_ that goes unsaid. Shiro wonders if they all have too much faith in him but he shrugs the thought off quickly. He owes them that much, at least. Keith settles into his side and fiddles with his knife, and Shiro wonders when Keith became part of his safe harbor. He takes control of the wheel, and charters a course for _home_. He’s been sailing astray for too long.

 

o.o.o.o

 

        Space is vast, infinite, and is a little overwhelming. When Keith was younger, he fell in love with the stars, and now that he’s surrounded by them he’s afraid. He feels the same freedom piloting the lion as he did piloting a plane, but the clouds didn’t take anything from him the way the stars have. He doesn’t recognize any of the constellations here, but the view from the castle is still stunning. Even then, he misses tracing out Orion, Leo, or even just Ursa Major in the clear desert skies outside of his makeshift house. He misses seeing the sun peek up from beyond the horizon. Keith has a mission now though, and he has friends here, so he cuts off that train of thought and looks at the stars again, wondering. While he’s lost in his idle musing, he misses the sound of Shiro’s footsteps coming into the room.

        Shiro’s breath catches a little, seeing Keith illuminated only by the gentle light of distant stars. It plays beautifully along his hair and subtly highlights his profile. It’s an incredibly sappy thought, but Shiro wonders if he checked his pulse right now, would he even hear anything beating? He could swear his heart resides in Keith’s chest instead. He can tell Keith is out of it though so he pushes away his thoughts, and goes to sit beside Keith. He turns his head slightly to look at Keith. “You with us, buddy?”

        Keith shakes himself out of his thoughts and quirks his lips into a smirk. “Didn’t think I’d be the one being asked that. There’s a phrase about that, I think. Something about tables turning?”

        Shiro laughs, Keith’s sense of humor was a little strange but he still finds it funny. “Yeah. Might be turntables though, if you ask Lance. Seriously though, Keith, are you okay?”

        Keith shrugs. “Good enough, I suppose. Being in space all the time is… weird. I don’t know how I feel about it.” Shiro nods in understanding. He’s sure all the paladins share the sentiment. “I mean, it took you away,” Keith says, voice below even a whisper, rendering his words nearly inaudible. Shiro catches it though, and his heart seizes with sadness.

        “I’m sorry,” he takes Keith’s hand and squeezes it in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

        “Don’t be. It’s just that, I don’t want to lose anyone else to it. Or myself.” He puts a hand gingerly beside Shiro’s neck, and red dusts his cheeks, so Shiro just lets himself _hope_ in the moment. “It helps that you’re here. Not just because I knew you before but… you’re important to me.” It’s Shiro’s turn to blush and he bumps his forehead lightly against Keith’s.

        “Are you homesick?” Shiro asks, voice shaking just the slightest bit. Keith smiles softly and swipes at Shiro’s cheek lazily with his thumb, moving his hand to trace the scar along Shiro’s nose. He has a shock of white hair, a scar, and a bionic arm, but he’s still Shiro. Not even a year of being imprisoned on a Galran ship could change that.

        “I was. Not right now though.” Shiro’s heart hammers in chest from the proximity, and he prays that Keith can’t hear it. “It’s good to have you back,” Keith says, echoing the conversation they had after he rescued Shiro from the Garrison.

        Shiro laughs, hopes he’s not misreading the situation, and puts his free hand on Keith’s waist. “It’s good to be back.” The moment is intimate and affectionate, and Shiro hasn’t felt so _at home_ for a year. Then without really thinking about it, he asks, “Hey, Keith… Can I kiss you?”

        He realizes what he’s said is about to take it back and tries to find an excuse to cover it up but Keith cranes his neck up a little to make up for their height difference, and smiles. “Of course,” he whispers and puts his lips gently against Shiro’s. The kiss is chaste, sweet, and they definitely bumped their noses together by accident multiple times, but they wouldn’t have traded the moment for anything in the world.

        Shiro brushes Keith’s hair back and presses a light kiss to his hairline. “Thanks for everything,” he whispers and moves his hands so he’s hugging Keith. He flushes deeper before hugging Shiro back.

        “Anytime,” he replies, words muffled because he's hiding his face in the crook of Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro hugs him tighter, just about radiating fondness. Keith might’ve teased him for being so affectionate, but the moment was warm and peaceful and he's  _happy._ They both are. There’s no telling when Shiro would be lost at sea again but at least now, he has a map leading to home.


End file.
